Tell Me Everything
by yuuago
Summary: A hero's job is pretty tough. But sometimes, all it takes to get on your feet again is a good rest and a talk with a friend.


**Tell Me Everything**

The air smelled sharp and metallic near the deep crack running down the face of the wall of rock. If someone happened to stop and look at it from the right angle, with head tilted and eyes squinting, at the heart of the fissure there was a bright light just barely visible.

Link slumped against the wall, closed his eyes, and stepped into it.

When he opened his eyes again, he was flattened against the wall, flattened _into_ the wall, like a hastily-drawn portrait. He could see the crack more clearly from there. The light was deep and painfully bright, like the sun in spring after rain, when it would shine hard enough to hurt the eyes. He squinted and walked toward it. Stepped quickly. Fast. Faster.

The darkness held him back, grabbed at him, clung to him. Even though he was exhausted, he shook it off and ran. He didn't want to think about what might happen if the magic drained and forced him out of the wall and into the space between the cracks before he could step back into the light.

Finally, it was over. He came out into the bright world and peeled himself off of the wall before it could shove him off. For a second, he leaned against it to catch his breath. He had never noticed it back before the fissures leading to Lorule had appeared, but Hyrule was so _bright_. The lively shades of the grass and the deep yellow that the sun cast from where it sank toward the horizon seared his eyes and he closed them for a moment to fend it off.

Just a moment.

When he opened them he found himself face-to-face with one of Yuga's armoured soldiers.

_You have got to be kidding_, he thought. Then he kicked it square in the chest and unsheathed his sword.

* * *

It was a quick fight. Yuga had the power to turn his chalk drawings into monsters, but he didn't have the power to make them think. Link blocked its blow, then sidestepped and caught it with a slash from behind. The monster fell without realizing what had hit it.

Link lowered his sword and looked up. Beyond the edge of the wall, almost out of sight, he could see the roof of his house - well, what used to be his house - and the slapped-together shop sign that his tenant had put up over the door.

At least, he thought, slowly making his way up the stone steps to his home, Ravio claimed to be renting his place. He hadn't seen any money from that yet, had he? Not that he expected anything from it, but it might be nice to have some compensation for it after everything is over and done with.

The rapidly-sinking sunlight spilled over the hillock and the grounds beneath it, turning everything gold. Out of habit, Link tapped his fingers against the weathervane outside his house for luck, and turned for a moment to look at the sunset. Everything ached, but he had to stop a moment, had to look and make sure that things were the way that they should be. Late summer. Autumn was approaching. The leaves would be changing soon. There would be harvests. A year ago, he and Gulley had spent time picking apples in the evenings, when supper was over but the sun was still up.

_After everything is over and done with_. It seemed almost impossible to imagine the world going back to the way it had been before people started to go missing and creatures began roaming the countryside. Before the fissures had started to appear. Before Yuga had showed up and turned everything black. The thought was enough to make his head hurt, make his whole body ache, worse than it had been before.

Amid the trees, just barely visible due to the brightness of the setting sunlight and the shadows that the woods cast, he could see movement. Monsters. No matter how many of them he cut down, more of them sprang up to take their place.

He felt so tired.

Turning away from the sunset and the forest, he made his way to the front door. _His_ front door. He just needed to sit down and rest for a minute. That was all. Normally he'd find some out-of-the way place, climb up in a tree and stay there a while, but he was here, and it was his house, and what he wanted was to have a cup of tea.

Inside, he could hear the muffled sounds of Ravio's voice and Sheerow's excited chirping. Link stopped, put his ear to the door and listened. "Someone's outside, you say? It's a little late in the day for customers. Let's see, it's either a monster or Mister Hero. What do you bet the odds are?"

A tired smile tugged at the corner of Link's lips. Then he nudged open the door and stepped inside. "Hello," he said, trying to keep it firm, trying not to show how exhausted he was.

The word barely left his lips before he felt himself buckle and hit the floor.

* * *

The room was black as pitch. As soon as he stepped into it, the door fell behind him, trapping him. Out of instinct, he stepped back and touched at it. No luck. There wasn't any place for a lock; the keys on his belt wouldn't open it.

The only way out was forward.

Link breathed deeply and tried to listen for something. Anything. Sounds in the dark. There was something waiting for him, watching him. There always was. But he couldn't hear it, and he couldn't see it yet.

The dust was thick on his tongue as he took out his lantern. He lit it. The match sputtered, the wick caught it, and in a second he was in a pool of light.

Something shrieked in the dark and moved toward the back of the room.

Link lifted the lantern higher, squinting at the edges just outside his vision. Somewhere just beyond the light he could see shadows moving. And along the narrow walkway, he thought he could see the outline of a switch.

This can't be so easy, he thought. But he could feel the energy rising, twisting somewhere in his chest. He gripped his sword and stepped into the room.

Something set on him almost immediately. He didn't have enough time to even see what was attacking him; winged creatures shrieked by his ear, scrabbling at his face with sharp claws, and he lashed out and cut them down without a thought.

The pathway was narrow, and he moved to get better footing. When he turned his head he came face to face with a sickly yellow eye staring at him from a head wrapped with old bandages, stinking with dust and the scent of decay. The creature groaned and lurched toward him, shuffling in his direction. Link stepped back and felt the edge of the walkway beneath his boots.

He shot out a hand to steady himself and came into contact with bone and desiccated flesh, dried to the texture of leather. Gritting his teeth, he got a firm footing on the walkway once more, then struck at the monster with his sword. It made little difference. He impaled it and twisted, but the eye continued to stare at him, and the hands reached out, grasping at him with fingers, the tips long since worn away. Finally he withdrew his sword and gave it a shove with his shoulder, pushing it off of the walk and sending it tumbling down into the darkness.

There was silence.

Link straightened, gripped his sword in one hand and the lantern in the other, and listened. Nothing except the sound of his own too-quick breathing.

He looked back in the direction he had come from, then turned around and checked the other end of the room. The lantern light was dim, but it gave just enough to make out the outline of a door. Once again, he stopped and listened, straining to hear even the slightest indication that he wasn't alone in the room.

Nothing.

Link knew that if there were something there, hiding in the corners of the room, it was well aware of his presence. Lighting the lantern was practically an invitation to attack him, making him visible to anything that might be out there. He frowned and looked down at the walkway, trying to judge whether it would be worth it to put out the light. It twisted at odd angles, and was barely wider than his feet.

No. He couldn't risk navigating that in the dark.

Slowly, he went on, picking his way carefully, touching down lightly before each step, just in case the tile might crumble away under his foot.

There was a sound in the dark. He stopped. Raising the lantern again, he listened, but could hear nothing above the sound of the blood pounding in his ears.

It might have been his imagination, but experience told him that whatever his imagination could up with was no match for what might really be out there in the shadows. Gritting his teeth, he tried to continue on. One step. Two steps. Three.

A scraping sound reached his ears, ringing close, impossibly close. Link swung around, sword at the ready, and held the lantern high to see whatever might be after him.

Nothing.

Slowly, carefully, he turned and looked forward again, raising his lantern as high as he could to see if there might be something there, something pressed against the nearest wall.

Nothing.

The scraping sound slowly drew closer. Link turned around again, staring back down the path. Even with the light, he couldn't see anything. But it was close, closer, he could hear that it was close enough, it was practically beside him. And with it, mingling with the dust and cobwebs, was the strong, sickeningly sweet scent of decay.

He looked up.

On the ceiling, hanging right above his head, a shape was just visible in the glow of his lantern. It hugged the flat tiles, clinging spider-like to the cracks with the bloody, cracked nails of its five fingers.

It dropped on him before he could move out of the way. He screamed as it grabbed him, wrapping him up and digging in with its nails. Link struggled, squirmed, tried to lash out but with his arms pinned to his sides there was little he could do but kick helplessly as it dashed on two fingers and hauled him up the wall toward the ceiling like a spider pulling a wrapped fly toward the centre of its web.

The creature dragged him up through a hole in the ceiling, scrabbled insect-like up another wall, hauled him up through another room before finally dropping him from the ceiling into a large chamber. He fell, screaming, and the floor rose up to meet him.

* * *

He should have landed with a sickening crunch as his body crashed into the skulls and bones that littered the tiled floor. Instead Link gave a yell, rolled out of bed, and met with a mouthful of carpet.

"Does that happen often?"

Link opened his eyes and looked up. In front of him, lounging on the rug as if he owned the place, was Ravio. With the rabbit hood pulled down over his eyes as usual, it was hard to judge his expression, but he sure sounded more curious than concerned.

That was to be expected, really.

"No," Link mumbled as he pushed himself off of the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed, brushed his hair out of his face, and tried not to look as annoyed as he actually was. "Why?"

"Just asking. Because you know, I'm really starting to wonder. The first time we talked, you faceplanted into the floor before I could even say anything." Ravio stood and spread his hands wide in mock-exasperation. "Now you show up here, and all I get is a 'Hello' before you're collapsing on my - uh, I mean, _our_ doorstep. And then as soon as I got you to bed, you screamed and fell right out of it again. And you know-"

Link glanced around the house, only half-listening. The shop tables had been flattened and tucked neatly against the wall; evidently Ravio had closed up for the night. Something was cooking in the pot on the hearth, and whatever it was smelled delicious. His gut rumbled in agreement with his nose, and he realized then that it had been a while since he'd last had the chance to have a good, hot, home-cooked meal. But there were more important things to think about for the time being. Where were his sword and shield? And how long had he been asleep, anyway? The window was dark; from the look of it, the last bits of sunlight had slipped away. "So, what are you saying?" he said finally, glancing toward Ravio.

"I'm just saying! You should take better care of yourself. You hero types are pretty tough, but if you die in battle, I'll lose my best customer!"

Link scrubbed a hand down his face and stared at him. "Really," he said. _That_ was what he was concerned about?

"Of course!" As if that settled it, Ravio stepped over to the hearth. Bending to lift the cover on the pot, he gave it a stir, then stopped. "Well, and also there's the part about the inevitable doom and gloom and destruction of your princess's kingdom. Y'know. If you fail."

"...Right."

"Mmhm. Pretty bad stuff. Soup?"

"I-" I have to get going, Link meant to say, trying to ignore the sound of his stomach rumbling and the scent of the soup in the pot and the slow deepening of the darkness outside. But before he could even reply, Ravio had taken a pair of bowls down from the shelf over the hearth and started setting the table. "Soup sounds good," he said tiredly, wondering what his tenant might have said if he'd tried to refuse, and realizing that he just didn't have the energy to argue.

"Great! It isn't every day that we have a hero over for supper, is it?" Ravio said, casting a smile in Sheerow's direction. "...Your sword 'n shield are by the foot of the bed, by the way."

* * *

The soup was more like a stew than anything else; thick and heavy and full to the brim with vegetables and potatoes and chunks of fish. And if that weren't enough, there were dense rolls with butter, and warm apple slices topped with honey and nuts, and a tall pitcher of milk.

Link was through two bowls of soup and starting on another when something occurred to him. "Were you planning this?" he asked, casually stirring his supper.

"Well, not until you showed up."

"Right. I didn't think you'd put all this together for yourself." Link glanced across the table at Ravio. There he sat, blowing on his soup almost daintily. As usual, the rabbit hood was pulled down over the top half of his face. How can he even see in that thing? Link wondered, trying to keep a straight expression as he watched the ears bob up and down. It was weird. ... Then again, he had seen weirder things. He thought back to the masked villagers in Lorule. Yes - much weirder things than that. "So, um. How long was I out?"

"Hmm, not that long." Ravio lifted his head and looked toward the window. The last rays of sunlight were gone, and the moon had begun its slow ascent. "A couple of hours, maybe."

"A couple of -" Link bit the inside of his cheek, stared down at his bowl, and breathed deeply. Right. Fine. "And you didn't think to wake me up?"

Ravio shrugged. "You kinda' looked like you needed some rest, buddy." Then he nodded to the window. "Besides, it was starting to get dark."

"I see."

"I thought... Never mind."

They both turned back to their supper. For a while, they ate in silence. Link took up a roll. Buttered it. Glanced upward, and caught Sheerow staring at him, perched comfortably on Ravio's shoulder. The bird was giving him an almost suspicious look.

Not for the first time, Link realized that he knew hardly anything about the person he was sharing his house with - or 'renting' it out to, if the agreement they had made before Link left on his quest had meant anything. A blast in the Sanctuary had knocked him unconscious, and the next thing he knew, he'd woke up at home with a stranger in a rabbit hood staring at him. After that, it had been a blur. They hardly ever saw each other, except when he came by to rent something new from Ravio's stock. It wasn't much to go by.

But it was something. It was enough, really. "You're right," Link said quietly, setting his roll down. "About the dark, I mean. I have ways to get around, but it's harder when I can't see my way. And I guess the nap didn't hurt, either." He looked to Ravio's eyes - or rather, where the eyes on the hood were - and nodded. "Thanks."

One second. Two. Then Ravio grinned. "No problem! Anything for the best customer in all of Hyrule. Now, I don't know about you, but I think that staying put for one night won't set you back all that much, and I don't mind having a guest." He reached across the table and offered his hand. "Deal?"

Without hesitating, Link grasped his hand and offered him a smile in return. "Deal."

And it was a far better deal than some of the others they'd made, to be sure.

* * *

The monster was waiting for him in the dark.

It was the two of them: regardless of anyone else that would be involved, regardless of everything that had happened to get him there, Link was alone. There was nothing but himself, the monster, and the dark.

He looked up, up, up - the thing towered over him, seeming to stand higher than any building, higher than a mountain. It dwarfed him, reduced him to nothing.

The fear rose in his throat but he shoved it aside. There was nothing he could do. He attacked.

The blow came without him even seeing it. One swipe to the side sent him flying and he screamed until he hit the opposite wall.

* * *

Link sat up. He stared at the wall across from him, sweat beading on his brow, his breath heaving. There was a hollow feeling in his head, as if it should have been split and smeared across a flat surface. Someone was yelling his name.

"Link, what's wrong?!"

Slowly, Link realized that he was in his own bed, in his own house. He recognized the way the lumpy mattress underneath him, and as his eyes adjusted he could see the dark shapes of the familiar decorations on the walls. The scent of the soup that he and Ravio had eaten for supper still lingered in the air, and it had a comforting note to it. Everything was fine. Everything except for the yelling, of course.

Slowly, he took a deep breath, and then another. "What?" he asked, brushing his hair out of his face as he looked over toward the centre of the room, where Ravio had rolled out a sleeping bag after he had graciously given up "his" bed for the night. Moonlight filtered in through the windows, washing the floor with pale light.

Ravio was pulling his hood on.

"You were screaming," he said as he tugged the hood down over his face. The rabbit ears bobbed, making shadow dance on the opposite wall. "What happened, buddy?" As he spoke, he rushed to get it on, fumbling with the hood's clasp as if he couldn't do both things at once, and getting his face covered was more important.

Link stared at him in the dim light. For a second, before Ravio had pulled the hood onto his head, he had caught a glimpse at his face - or thought he had. But what he had seen hadn't made any sense. "I had a dream," Link mumbled. "Sorry." It must have been a trick of the shadows, he thought as he rubbed at his eyes to get the sleep out of them. Even with the bit of moonlight, it was still hard to see. What he saw had to have been because of the light.

"Eesh. Don't scare me like that! A guy like me could keel over and die from getting woke up like that, y'know." After making one more adjustment to his hood, Ravio stood, swept up his blanket, and stepped over to sit down on the side of the bed, ignoring the frown that deepened on Link's lips. "Why would a brave guy like you get scared by a little old dream, anyway?"

It wasn't the kind of conversation that Link would want to have at that hour of night. Or at any time, ever. He looked at his tenant, at the rabbit hood with its wobbling ears, and at the expressionless face in front of him. Part of him wanted to say that it was none of his business. But Ravio hadn't meant anything by it; there hadn't been anything except a curious note in his voice. Link sighed, his shoulders sagging. Fine.

"It isn't like that," he said, twisting the bedsheets in his hands. "It isn't about _not_ being scared. I'm scared a lot. Every day."

In front of him, Ravio shook his head. It might have been from disbelief, but at least he didn't say anything. That was encouraging. At least he was listening. Link drew in a breath and thought hard about the right words. Saying the right thing was something that never came easy to him, and most of the time he preferred not to talk at all, but he had to make sure that his tenant - or friend, or whatever he was - could understand. "Even if I'm scared, I have to do it. I made Zelda a promise; I told her that I'd set things right. Maybe if I gave up, or if I died, then somebody else would try to put everything back the way it should be. But I can't be sure about that. So, I have to do this. Because I promised. And because somebody has to."

Link sighed, ducking his head, suddenly feeling exhausted. That was more than he had ever said about it to anyone, and part of him would have rathered that he'd said it to someone else.

There was a long silence. Link waited, watching Ravio's dark form for a reaction. He expected him to come out with some loud comment, a laugh, something about how he was just being down on himself. A friendly slap on the back, maybe. But that didn't happen.

"That's some heavy stuff, Mister Hero." Ravio spoke slowly, as if he was choosing his words carefully. "But I understand what you mean. I think."

"Oh?"

"... I'll have to think about this."

Think about _what_? There's nothing to think about, Link said to himself. This doesn't have anything to do with you. But as he looked at Ravio's shadowy form, he decided that it would be better not to say anything about it. If it helped him somehow, that was fine.

In the meantime, there were other things to think about.

"We should get back to sleep," Link muttered. His eyelids felt so heavy. Even with the unexpected nap he'd had the previous day, the strain of his recent visit to Lorule had left him absolutely exhausted. In the morning, he'd have to leave again; there was no question about it. He'd have to get as much sleep as he could - and he couldn't do that with Ravio sitting on the side of his bed.

Fortunately, it didn't take more than that hint to get Ravio moving. "Right! Right," he said as he stood, stretching a bit before making his way over to his sleeping bag. "You need your rest, and I need my beauty sleep! See ya' in the morning, buddy."

Link watched as he settled himself down, hood and all. "...You're going to sleep with that on?" he asked.

"Yep! Makes for a more sound sleep, y'know. Maybe you should get one."

Instead of arguing, Link curled up in bed. Fine, he thought. You win. "Maybe I will." It wouldn't do any good to ask about it. After seeing him rush to put the hood on, it was clear that there was something he didn't want Link to see.

It didn't matter. Everyone had secrets. And even if Link had spilled one of his tonight, that didn't mean that Ravio had to do the same.

"G'night, Mister Hero."

"... Good night, Ravio."

* * *

Everything around him was dark. The darkness was thick, dusty, ancient, tasted like cobwebs. It filled his lungs and stifled him and the air was thick with it.

There was a torch nearby. He lit it. Something in the dark shrieked and skittered away into the shadows. He blinked once. Twice. Squinted. Tried to breathe again. Somehow with the light, it was easier.

There was another torch a few feet away. He lit it. Then he stood back and looked up.

The door loomed over him, tall and silent and imposing.

Its key was heavy in his pocket.

Link breathed deeply. Breathed again. Bit at his lip and reached for the key and listened. He couldn't hear anything beyond the door; only the sound of the torches in the room crackling and beyond that, something always, constantly, moving in the shadows just beyond the edges of the light.

His feet were heavy and his shoulders ached and something deep inside of his chest screamed at him to turn around and leave the dungeon and go home.

Link had become very familiar with that voice. It had screamed at him since the moment he set foot in that place, and it had screamed at him throughout every single one of the others, too. He duly ignored it. Instead he lifted the key and shoved it into the lock.

He couldn't go home. He had to take care of this first.

There wouldn't be any home to go to if he didn't.

* * *

"You didn't sleep very well last night, did you."

In the morning's light, the tension from the conversation they'd had in the middle of the night faded away. Link didn't say anything about the questions that were asked and the answers he'd given, and Ravio didn't say anything about it either.

Ravio also said nothing about how he'd slept all night with his hood on. It couldn't have been comfortable, as far as Link was concerned, but he decided it was best not to mention it.

They shared an early breakfast together when the sky was just starting to brighten. Tea and berries and thick porridge topped with honey. It was a quiet table; neither of them wanted to talk. For Link, this was normal, but as he glanced at Ravio over the brim of his mug he wondered if the conversation weighed on him.

_That's pretty heavy stuff. I'll have to think about this._ What had he meant by that?

The question came as Link was preparing to leave, going through his pack and the pouches at his belt, checking that it was all in good order. At first, he barely heard it; then he looked up to find Ravio staring at him, one hand on his hip, and a package wrapped in cloth in the other.

"What?"

"I _said_, you didn't sleep very well, did you. You kept turning around and moaning."

Link ducked his head and looked again to his backpack, rearranging the mass of bottles and potions and small projectiles. "If you could hear it, then I guess you weren't sleeping so well either."

"You could say that again."

For a moment, there was silence: the kind of silence that comes when someone has something more to say, but isn't ready to say it just yet. Link waited, listening as Ravio shifted from one foot to the other. Then, finally, Ravio cleared his throat, and patted Link on the shoulder. "Well! Looks like my best customer is leaving into the great unknown again. Here, you'd better make some room for this."

The package plunked into Link's lap. He glanced at Ravio, and was greeted only by the unreadable eyes of that bunny hood - and a smile beneath them. Carefully, he loosened the wrapping just enough to get a look at what was inside.

Oatcakes. Apples. A loaf of dark bread. Two round cheeses. A paper packet of mint tea. And lastly, a small, carefully-corked bottle of something much stronger than tea. Link's lips parted as he tried to think of something to say.

From anyone, it would be generous enough. But Ravio was - well. Ravio was Ravio. Carefully, Link wrapped the package back up and slipped it into his bag. His tongue felt as if it were stuck to the roof of his mouth. "I... Thanks. Really. Thank you."

"Nah! I don't know much about it, but I've heard heroing is really hungry business. Can't save Hyrule on an empty stomach!"

As if that was that, Ravio turned and went to clear off the breakfast table. Link looked over toward him, watching. Soon, all the furniture would be pushed back, and the shop tables would be set up again. It figured that he'd waste no time in doing that - and for what? Did he even have any other customers? Link wondered about it for a moment. Well, even if that guy was that focused on money, at least he had his moments.

"Oh, and by the way, make sure you bring back that ale bottle! It's just a loan! You _know_ those things are worth more than Rupees."

Link sighed and went back to packing. He shouldn't have expected anything less.

* * *

The morning sun had just barely stepped up over the horizon when Link left his home - or rather the _temporary_ location of Ravio's Weapon Rentals, emphasis on the 'temporary' part. It was a cool morning, and the world was still; but not too still. There were birds singing in the nearby trees, ordinary ones, the kind that he remembered would greet him every morning when he'd wake up for work at the smithy, late as always.

Hearing it felt good, Link thought as he breathed deeply the clear morning air, feeling the coolness go straight to his bones. It was a good sign; it meant that some things were still normal. Maybe someday, he could put everything back to normal.

He allowed himself one final look back. As he watched, the window opened, and Ravio leaned out to wave, the ears on his hood bobbing with the movement.

"You can come back any time, Mister Hero! Don't forget, the door's always open!"

You've got to be joking, Link thought, but sometimes I just can't tell. His hands twitched, and he thought about cupping his hands to his mouth and calling back, _Don't forget that _you're_ staying in _my_ house!_

In the end, he didn't. He just offered a wave to his tenant - or maybe it was best to call him a friend - and then turned away, looking out across the hillock toward the forest.

Even with the weight of the journey in front of him, and the weight of the fear that he knew would come back, it was fine. It would be all right.

I'll do what I promised, Link thought. And then I'll come home.

_End_


End file.
